


Tales from Chaldea: Do Servants Dream of Slice of Life?

by Gozufucker



Category: Fate/Grand Order, Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms
Genre: Collection of one shots, Friendship, Gen, Might contain ships later on, Who knows tagging sucks, comedy?, i'll add tags as time goes on, no explicit stuff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-14
Updated: 2018-04-22
Packaged: 2019-04-22 19:17:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14315388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gozufucker/pseuds/Gozufucker
Summary: A collection of one-shots detailing the lives, casual encounters and other such things among the many servants in Chaldea. Some might be ship-focused, some might not. This'll be updated whenever the author gets an idea they like and want to squirt it out somewhere.





	1. The Painter's Journey for Milk

"I'll be coming back soon, father."

The octopus who was wearing a comfortable little sleeping cap simply gurgled something and turned around in his makeshift bed right next to where his daughter slept, seemingly content with just continuing his sleep before he'd been so rudely woken up by his rude daughter. While Servants did not explicitly need help, the condition of Chaldea made the option of sleeping at nights rather tempting for many: The Katsushikas were ones who took the chance to enjoy nonexistent dreams they could never have.

Although, the sleep of the younger Katsushika, Oui, had truly been disturbed by a horrible feeling of dryness in her throat. While Servants did not need food or drink to survive, they could not simply clear their throats of this horrid feeling without something to lubricate the process. Surely, water from the tap of their small bathroom could've been fine, but she had a selfish craving that no tap could fulfill: the younger Katsushika thirsted for a true nectar of the gods, something she had such a rare joy of tasting due to their poverty in life...

She wanted milk.

Milk to cleanse her throat of the odd sore (perhaps due to snoring?), milk to help her palette, milk out of sheer curiosity and selfishness! Those were the factoids that drove the youth to quietly walk down the halls of Chaldea. Despite it being night the halls were fully lit, after all, some Servants never slept and turning the lights off would inconvenience their day-to-day actions. Still, there was some penny pinching at play: the lights flickered on and off every ten minutes or so, possibly to converse a little bit of energy. Chaldea was on a budget, after all.

One such flicker happened as Katsushika turned around a corner, in total darkness for about half a minute as she suddenly collided with something large and rather hard to the touch, patting her hands about as she tried to determine if she'd somehow made such a sharp turn she ended up colliding with the wall. But no, this didn't feel like a wall. Unless walls had wonderful musculature she was already dying to draw, along with textures that almost felt like clothing, and oh, it was a little bit warm at some points, although she wasn't quite sur-

One glance upwards also revealed gleaming red eyes that made her jaw drop as something almost twice her height was staring down at her, those red eyes flaming with something she could not determine for sure: raw, animal-like anger? Perhaps something more passionate? Her mind was far too scared by the sight to make well educated guesses as to what this encounter was feeling, and then.

But she didn't have to present guesses when the lights came back on. Her hands were patting down a thigh right now, having previously touched upon a skirt-like article of clothing that led upwards to the muscular stomach of the greatest hero Greece could offer, someone even she knew from the bottom of her heart... Heracles. Or rather, Berserker, as he was known in Chaldea. She could see how steam rose from his nose as he snorted and stared down at Katsushika.

"A-Ah- Howdy, Berserker. I was just... I, I, ah. I wanted to go and get myself some milk for my parched throat, and I- I thought I simply turned too sharp a corner when the lights flickered, and..." She realized her hands were still caressing Berserker's thigh. Hmm, nice musculature. "Ah! My apologies, truly. I will be on my way now, I meant no insult."

Her hands are drawn back quickly, slapped down to her sides with a little ruffle of her clothing. While she was usually not quite as embarrassed about these accidents as she was now, Berserker was a true monster with gleaming embers for eyes that could probably punch her head off if she annoyed him enough. There were no words in reply to her hasty apology, and instead, Berserker simply watched Katsushika quietly tip toe past him before she practically ran off in fear to the kitchen.

"Haa, haa... Goodness, this place truly is filled with monsters."

Her mutters carried her over to the fridge as she grabbed a carton of milk, turning about as she then searched for the cabinet holding glasses. At least Chaldea wasn't cheap enough to simply forgo having proper cutlery and dining utensil, although... Agh! Someone hadn't done the dishes properly yet! All the glasses were way up on the rack, far too high for her to reach safely. She could perhaps grab a chair and stand on it to reach higher, but with her clothing, there was a high chance of tripping if she tried to reach any higher. Perhaps she needed to stack multiple chairs...?

Guess she had to risk it to win it. Katsushika placed the carton down onto a table and grabbed a chair to lift it up. Heave-ho! It wasn't too heavy for her to handle, so when she turned around it was easy as pie to-

Berserker was standing there just as she turned, chair very lightly poking him on the foot as the grey mass of muscle and anger stared down at Katsushika, her eyes sinking back into their sockets. Oh gods, she's going to be killed now, right? She just hit Berserker, even if by accident! She was far too young to die, and father couldn't take care of himself! He was but a little octopus, far too innoc- okay he drew porn, maybe not the most innocent, but still far too vulnerable to be left alone! Please gods, help!

Berserker stared down at her for a moment, and then to the carton of milk. Next his eyes moved onto observing the pile of dirty dishes. For some reason her head hadn't been punched off immediately, so Katsushika saw it fitting to open her eyes from their brief tenure of being closed due to fear to try and see why she wasn't back at the Throne yet. Berserker had turned around and was instead reaching up to the upper racks, grabbing a glass that he then set down onto the table next to the carton of milk. Afterwards, his arms folded.

Katsushika stared at the carton and glass before then grabbing both, pouring herself enough for a few good gulps before then drinking. The cool feeling spread through her throat, the texture treating her oh-so gently as she chugged, chugged and chugged, placing the glass down after she felt herself nourished to a point where the annoying itch in her throat had disappeared totally. Heracles stared at her even when she placed the glass onto the pile of dirty dishes.

She felt as if she was expected to do something here. Ah, perhaps.

"Berserker, could you help me do the dishes?"

Berserker didn't answer vocally, although his eyes seemed to ease. Perhaps she was trying to humanize something that was not human to begin with, but she still gained a little smile on her face as the Herculean hero and the little painter girl set forwards on this thirteenth labor. Chaldea was a large organization with multiple servants under their employ, and while some didn't bother to eat, many still found delicacies to be enjoyable. Especially the different Artorias, whom all ate more than most of the other servants combined.

Even with the aid of Berserker, it still took them around two hours. She hadn't glanced at the clock when she left her and her father's room, but she felt as if morning was about to come by the time they placed the last of the cleaned up dishes back onto the rack, wiping some sweat from her forehead. Phew... That's the last time she did any charity.

"Thanks for the help, Berserker. I truly mean it. If there was anything you'd like as payment for your help, simply ask."

Berserker stared down at Katsushika before snorting noticeably, hand lifting up to pat her head. It almost felt similar to the pats her father had given her when they'd both been living, breathing humans, dark eyes following the figure of Berserker as he left the kitchen. He'd come out of nowhere, helped her despite her rude conduct and hadn't even asked for anything in return? Perhaps that's what made him the greatest hero in all of Greece. And she, as a fool, had expected him to be a brutal monster who'd bring her only misery.

Those annoying thoughts of regrets plagued her mind as she trekked back to her room and settled into bed. It seems like her father was still fast asleep, and the clock was only 4 AM: she could definitely get a little bit of sleep before the days duties begun. She turned onto her side and stared at the wall before coming to a conclusion: she'd draw the greatest hero of the Greeks something as thanks for his help, and as an apology for her rude thoughts.

With that promise, Katsushika Oui fell asleep.


	2. Uncle Spartacus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spartacus and Boudica spend their afternoon bowling like usual, although something's different this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wanted to write something quick and nice. Sorry if the quality's a little worse than usual.

"HYAHAHAHAHAAHAHA! YES! YES!"

Another strike for the lumbering mass of grey muscle. Boudica couldn't resist the temptation to smile as she leaned against the wall and watched Spartacus go at it. This was starting to become their usual weekend routine: bowling. Chaldea was equipped with state-of-the-art facilities for many hobbies, bowling being one of the more minor ones. Not a lot of servants utilized the bowling hall either, giving the two of them some accidental privacy. They didn't need it, she thought, but then again. Spartacus could get quite rowdy when he really got into whatever he was doing.

No-one really wanted to spend time with Spartacus. Boudica could understand why, but it was still a crying shame... Under the rough exterior and hatred for all forms of oppression, he was a very sweet man. It wasn't his fault he was chained with Madness Enhancement, yet people could be so judging towards him. She chalked it up to the fact that most servants had been "oppressors" in life. Even she was an oppressor in theory, and she'd even gone as far as to ask Spartacus why he bothered to spend time with her when she was an "oppressor" in life. 

His answer had been delightfully Spartacus-like, a bright grin after a moment of thinking. Something akin to "even the greatest oppressors do have a chance for reform, even if most of them do not bother to spare a thought for such a thing."

The knowledge that he thought so highly of her made her feel quite content. Sometimes she feared that their friendship was one sided. Was it odd? Perhaps, but she'd come to the realization that her relationship with the rebel was probably the most meaningful one she shared with all of the servants occupying Chaldea. Sure, she was in rather good terms with most of the other heroic spirits, but nothing past the surface level. Most of them already had well-established social circles that she simply couldn't penetrate into.

... Perhaps she'd made herself into far too motherly a figure. She couldn't imagine being her own friend, as depressing as that sounded. She was never distant, but she was far too warm and caring to be a close friend either. That logic didn't sound sensible in practice, but it was the only reason she could come up with. Or was she trying to keep herself away from others intentionally? 

Those thoughts of hers were put aside for now, snapping back to reality with Spartacus patting her shoulder, head tilted to the side. "Your turn!"

Boudica shook her head and whisked some of her hair to the side. She'd taken to wearing the kind of uniform her Master wore when they were off-hours. It felt comfortable and didn't leave her as exposed as her usual outfit did, and the material felt rather nice... Although Spartacus was as, ah, exposed as usual. She'd been trying to get him to at least wear some shorts, but her attempts had failed for now. She wasn't against his self-expression, but she surmised that his lack of pants was a major reason as to why many servants avoided him.

"I think it's about time for a break. I brought us lunch in preparation."

Boudica smiled and pointed to the two small boxes she'd brought with her, having set them down off to the side. While she might've imagined it, his smile seems to have grown a little as he instead walked over to one of the boxes, gently taking it into his hands as he opened it. She had set a simple lunch for today. A few sandwiches and some rice, enough for the lunch to take more than a few minutes while still being rather small in the end.

They are quietly for a moment, although soon enough Boudica decided to break the quiet atmosphere by reaching into her pocket. She'd commissioned Hokusai recently, and she hadn't found anyone to show the work to. Perhaps Spartacus, as her closest friend, was the best target. The commission itself wasn't too big, about the size of a common photograph, yet the details on it were just amazing. She'd even tipped Hokusai a little extra for her dedicated work.

"I had an artist here make this piece for me. What do you think?"

She passed the slip of paper over to Spartacus, who pinched it between two of his fingers. He was handling it surprisingly gently for a man of his stature, examining the contents. It was a simple piece: Boudica and girls, one about fifteen or so while the other seemed to be eighteen. They looked very similar to her as well, although one's hair was orange instead of red and the other seemed far more muscled than Boudica did. It was almost reminiscent of a family photograph, although in painted form.

"I wanted something to remember my daughters by, so... I gave Hokusai a description of what they looked like and asked for a simple portrait. I thought the commission was far too out there due to having no live models, yet she did such an amazing job with it! Just looking at it makes me feel closer to them."

Spartacus nodded eventually and chuckled.

"Truly! I can see their visage and instantly compare it to yours! You have striking daughters, friend. Like blossoming flowers in a field bathed freshly in the blood of slain oppressors."

Boudica couldn't help but to chuckle at his response, head leaning against his arm. He was very comfortable, despite how unique he was. In a way, she hoped other servants in Chaldea would come to understand him as well as she did. She reached a hand over and carefully took the picture from him, stashing it back into her pocket. She was glad another person knew of her embarrassing commission.

"I'm sure they'd love you if they had the chance to meet you. You'd make a great uncle, Spartacus."

Spartacus cackled in response and slapped his knee as he grabbed a bowl of rice and poured the contents right down his throat. Maybe he didn't really need anyone to understand him or care for him, but Boudica felt like there was some obligation on her part now. No, not obligation, rather... A simple feeling of friendship.

He was her friend. That's what mattered. She closed her eyes and sighed contently.


End file.
